Snowish Laru Guide — Stella Sora

This has been a tradition for only a decade or so.
People say it started one year ago when someone casually suggested, on the eve of the Snowish Festival, that everyone should put on special outfits to make the day feel more festive. A bigshot happened to overhear the idea, and to everyone's surprise, it was put into action and kept over the years. It grew into the Grace Imperium's Snowish Festival custom we have today.

When Laru was little, she couldn't control her light magic, and whenever it got out of hand, her body would glow at the most inconvenient times. Sometimes it was her hands, sometimes her hair, sometimes...
It's a part of her childhood she'd rather not think about.

"The story goes that the Snowish Tree Spirit grants children's wishes because she has to grant a hundred of them within a set time, or she'll turn into a nutcracker toy..."
The first time Laru heard this, she laughed so hard that she actually spat out her fries.

Kids in the Ash District once asked Laru if she'd ever seen the Snowish Tree Spirit when she was little. Laru gave them an animated retelling of the Spirit taking her flying through the night sky, but none of the kids believed her.
"The ones who fly on brooms are witches! No way that was the Snowish Tree Spirit!"

Some say they once saw the Snowish Tree Spirit appear at the Port, her magic drawing in a school of glowing fish through the darkness—a scene almost impossibly dreamlike.

"Maybe the Snowish Tree Spirit likes fries, too?"
Every child who claims to have seen her says the same thing: Before the Spirit left, she told them she was heading to the Port to get some fries.

The little girl in that old photo... That was actually Laru, wasn't it?
—Freesia

When we got short-staffed and asked her to help hand out gifts, I was actually worried that she might play hooky like usual. The fact that she could actually be diligent in her work caught me by surprise.—Angie

Mostly accurate.
This year's Snowish Festival outfit was actually pretty cute. Let's do a repeat next year~
—Willow

The Gift-Delivery Machine

After plenty of trial and error, Laru eventually realized that, given the current level of Novian technology, building a truly practical "gift-delivery machine" just wasn't possible.
So during a Monolith expedition, she made a wish at the Wishing Box, hoping the Monolith's Artifacts would make up for what science couldn't. But at the very moment she made the wish, her mind perhaps drifted back to that "cannon" she had tested earlier. So, a burst of brilliant light followed ... and she ended up with another one exactly like the old model...

As the midnight bells rang, the festival's liveliness faded with them. The Snowish Festival was over for another year, and deep winter had settled over the continent.
After a long day, Laru lay down on her bed and let out a slow breath.
"This year's Snowish Festival was especially busy..."
She spoke to herself as the day's moments drifted through her mind—the gifts she handed out, the children's bright smiles, and the way their eyes lit up when they saw the "Snowish Tree Spirit."
All of it made the work feel worthwhile.

Even so, there was a small gap in her satisfaction.
In the rush of handing out presents, she had ended up being the only one who didn't receive any...
Her eyes fell on the doll sitting on her desk. She turned over, let that faint disappointment slip away, and nudged herself toward sleep. The holiday was over; tomorrow was another work day.

The next morning, as Laru yawned and got ready to head out, she opened her door—and a small mountain's worth of gifts toppled forward and scattered at her feet. A slip of paper floated down along with the gifts.
She picked it up. The handwriting belonged to a colleague she knew well:
"After we finished the deliveries last night and went back to the warehouse, we realized there were a bunch of gifts labeled for you. In the chaos before the festival, they got mixed in with the kids' presents. So we brought them over for you overnight!"
Laru looked at the gifts filling her doorway. They came from her Grace Imperium colleagues, Boss, Willow, the Post Haste trio, and her fishing buddies...
Boxes of all shapes and sizes, each carrying someone's well-wishes.

The last little gap was finally filled.
"This really was a wonderful Snowish Festival..."

This ... must be a dream, right?

Laru looked down at her hands. They had no fingers, just smooth wooden shapes like a doll's. Her dress was stiff, her hair a solid carved block.
Oh, and she couldn't even speak!

She turned her rigid neck. She was basically a wooden toy now. Her joints made a rough clicking sound whenever she moved, like stop-motion animation that kept dropping frames.
"Dame, do you have any other orders? Our queen will be arriving soon."
Laru stared in confusion. She tried to ask what was going on, but she still couldn't make a sound. She could only watch as the puppet in front of her tilted its head. Like an NPC whose script had just been triggered, the puppet dutifully launched into an explanation of the game rules.
"This is the Kingdom of Fries. The hateful Shrubshrews have taken over our fry fields, and now, we're preparing to drive them out."
"By the way, Dame, you have a gun on your back. You'll surely be stronger than us footmen carrying swords, so please step up to the front line."
Laru had no way of saying no. She waved her hands in a panic, but the stiff joints moved too slowly, and the soldiers ended up pushing her to the very front.
Just then, the ground trembled. Before Laru could react, gigantic Shrubshrews charged toward them like runaway trucks.
Her eyes flew wide. All she wanted was to run.
No—no no no no...!!!

Morning light spilled across the window. Laru clutched her blanket tight, her brow furrowed, mumbling under her breath:
"Stop it... Don't chew my head... Stupid Shrubshrew... Go away..."

"Cracking a whip is basically like casting a fishing rod. You're great at fishing, so you'll definitely be able to learn the whip."

A month before the Snowish Festival, Albedo handed Laru a long whip, along with the order to master it as quickly as possible.
Albedo explained that the directive came from upper leadership and that Laru had to complete it no matter what. As for why it was so sudden, and why it had to be Laru, no one bothered to tell her.
Laru took it in stride. After all, baffling instructions from the management were nothing new. She patted her heart, promised she'd get it done, and accepted the whip with exaggerated solemnity. Then she walked out of the office, turned a corner ... and slipped out to go fishing.

But as the days passed, Laru suddenly realized that in her rush to go fishing that day, she hadn't found out what exactly counted as "knowing how to use" the whip.
"I mean... I could just use it for fishing, right? If I tie on a float and a hook, it's a little short for regular casting... But it'd be perfect for catching fish in deep wells!"
Laru held the whip and started trying to guess what the real purpose of the assignment had been.
Maybe the next Monolith expedition needed someone who could fight with a whip? But the deadline was the Snowish Festival—did they want a performance?
After thinking it over, her well-honed workplace instincts pointed her to the optimal answer: the whip had to work as a weapon while also looking good for show.
She's got it!

But as the Snowish Festival approached, nothing else was mentioned about the whip. Laru went to check with Albedo, who clearly had forgotten the whole thing.
"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. Some Senator saw a Snowish Festival-like event in a storybook from the Monolith and wanted to copy it. The idea was to have a few beasts pull a cart and have staff act as coachmen delivering gifts. But they later decided it was way too inefficient, so the plan got dropped."
Laru took three seconds to process this. Then she stared at Albedo blankly. "... Huh?"
"Anyway, the whip they gave you also came from the Monolith. You can keep it."

Oh, well.
Laru told herself.
Every employee runs into assignments that appear out of nowhere and disappear just as mysteriously.